Amalgamation
by NefarioussNess
Summary: Allison wasn't sure whether to shake him awake or let him ride it out. She wanted to do the former, but how would Stiles feel, knowing that she'd seen him like this? He shouldn't be ashamed; Allison knew how brave he was and she hated to see him suffer like this. (Part 3 of Strange Stimulation.)
1. June 1, 2015

Allison's eyes were itching with sleep, but she couldn't go to bed. Well, not just yet; she had to go over the list one more time to be sure.

The date had been set since December for their wedding: August sixth. That was a little over two months from now but Allison had been scatter-brained about it and had just begun drafting the invitations. Two months was going to be such short notice for everyone involved, wasn't it?

She and Scott had decided on making the celebration tight-knit and close at home, with only family and close friends attending. She had asked Erica to be her bridesmaid, and was glad when she accepted.

It went without saying who was going to be their best man.

Allison frowned, scratching out one name before writing it back on her list of guests. She hadn't been sure whether or not to invite Lydia Martin to the wedding; Allison didn't want to make it awkward for Stiles and Erica. She wasn't sure what their relationship with the older woman was like now since she took Kyle into her care. Allison had been afraid to ask, but sooner than later she'd have to. It wouldn't be fair otherwise.

Allison yawned loudly, bringing her hand to her mouth in order to stifle it. She looked at the clock on her phone, which informed her that it was past two in the morning. The TV was glowing dimly in front of her, showing off the cheesy infomercials that were usually displayed at this late hour. She placed the guest list into her folder and closed it shut.

As she headed toward her and Scott's room she paused outside Stiles' door, which was slightly ajar. Stiles couldn't stand to have the door completely shut anymore; he said it reminded him of being locked in Peter's closet. Allison heard little whimpers and hollow breathing from inside the room. She placed her hand on the door and slowly pushed it open.

Stiles was asleep, but his sheets were mangled around him. He wasn't thrashing about like he used to, but his eyes were squeezed shut and his fingers gripped the blankets in front of him.

"Stop, stop, stop," Stiles sobbed quietly. He shuddered out a breath before continuing his desperate, pleading mantra.

Allison wasn't sure whether to shake him awake or let him ride it out. She wanted to do the former, but how would Stiles feel, knowing that she'd seen him like this? He shouldn't be ashamed; Allison knew how brave he was and she hated to see him suffer like this.

She looked over at the framed photograph on Stiles' desk. The glass was still cracked from when Stiles dropped it so long ago out of fear.

"Stiles," Allison murmured gently as she touched his shoulder. Stiles stiffened at her touch, freezing as if he'd been caught in headlights.

"Wake up sweetie," Allison said, giving him a little shake. She desperately hoped that she wasn't scaring him.

Stiles' eyes snapped open, so fast and unpredictable that it startled Allison a little. Stiles blinked rapidly, heaving in deep breaths before looking over at Allison. He then curled into himself, the blankets shifting with him as he went into a fetal position. Allison sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Please go to sleep," Stiles said wearily. "Go to bed, Ally, I'm fine."

"It's okay," Allison said soothingly. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, and Stiles shook in tiny increments that would be barely noticeable if she hadn't been so close to him. "It's okay," she repeated. "I'm not going to leave you."

"You should," Stiles whispered miserably. "You'll live longer."

"Don't talk like that," said Allison gently. "You know that's not true, right?"

Stiles sighed, his body going lax as she rubbed her hand down his neck. Her thumb glided over his pulse point, which was slowing down from its previous jackrabbit quickness. "I'm not so sure anymore," Stiles admitted quietly.

He sidled over automatically to give Allison some room to lie next to him. She pulled the blankets—they were damp with sweat—over them as she nudged her body closer to his.

"Have you been telling Dr. Morrell about this? She should know to help you better."

"I do," Stiles replied, "but I feel like a broken record at this point. Nightmare this, anxiety that. I had a panic attack the last time I saw her."

Allison frowned; Stiles never told her about that particular part of his previous session. She had to remind herself that moments like that were confidential between the doctor and patient; she and Scott didn't need to know anything that Stiles didn't want them to know. She was so used to knowing every little detail that this little confession threw her off.

It made her want to protect Stiles from the big, bad world even more.

* * *

><p>It had been roughly two and a half months since Kyle had been born, but that special occasion had been marred by a single phone call.<p>

Allison remembered her cell blaring out its obnoxious ring tone at four in the morning. On the other end was Stiles, who'd tearfully asked for her and Scott to come down to the hospital. At first Allison feared that something had happened to the baby and began driving to the hospital within five minutes, trying to avoid any red lights thrown her way. She was confused to find the police cars outside and saw how Scott's expression tightened at the sight of the FBI patrolling the building.

Stiles had been sitting outside of Erica's room, his face blank and eyes unseeing. Agent Anderson was there, and Scott visibly relaxed at the sight of her speaking softly to Stiles before stiffening again at the sight of his father.

Unfortunately Agent McCall had spotted them and made his way over to the couple, his mouth a tight line of frustration. "What are you two doing here?" he asked impatiently.

"Stiles phoned us," Scott simply said. "Is he alright?"

McCall huffed out a breath. "He'll live. But that's not the reason we're here."

"Peter?" Scott asked. Allison held his hand, which was beginning to shake.

"Go home Scott," McCall said brusquely. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" Scott said a little more loudly. "My best friend sounded terrified on the phone and the FBI is here again so I'm going to put two-and-two together and guess that Peter Hale is involved."

"It was a _false alarm_," McCall insisted, but Scott wasn't going to have any of it. Allison clutched his hand as they made their way past the agent and toward where Stiles was sitting.

"Scott!" McCall shouted. He shook his head before walking away, pushing past some of the concerned hospital staff.

Anderson had finished speaking to Stiles by the time they made their way over to him. She gave Scott a small smile before giving Stiles a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. As soon as she was out of earshot Scott crouched in front of him while Allison took the chair next to Stiles.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked worriedly. Stiles stared at him; his face was stained with tear tracks. Scott took Stiles' hands in his and brushed his thumbs over the knuckles in a soothing gesture. "Stiles, what happened?"

"He was here," Stiles whispered. "He was _here_. He said she had my eyes."

Allison's heart began to pound. She felt her chest tighten with anxiety. No, that was impossible; surely one of the staff members or even security would've noticed a stranger wandering the halls at this time at night.

Stiles was sucking in great breaths next to her. Allison reached over and placed her hand on his wrist.

"We're here," she reassured him.

Stiles nodded, though he still looked unsure. "I have to go check on Erica," he said. His legs shook, but he managed to stand on his own. Scott and Allison pulled away from Stiles, and watched him sneak his way back into Erica's room.

"This is insane," Scott muttered. "Seriously, what's Peter's problem anyway? Why can't he just leave Stiles alone?"

"You know why," Allison replied sadly.

Scott ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a little frustrated sigh. "It's like he _planned_ this; it's like he knows this is one of the hardest days of Stiles' life, and then he decides to pull this shit. I hate this!"

"Me too," Allison said. She looked over at Erica's door, thinking of tiny Kyle and how she'll be gone from her parents' lives in a few short hours. That little baby should be able to live in a world safe from a man like Peter Hale. Stiles shouldn't have to fear for his life or for his family's every waking moment.

Allison had an inkling of the actions she would soon have to partake in, and she was afraid. Afraid, but willing to go through with them.


	2. June 1, 2015 II

Allison woke up, her eyes still heavy with sleep. The blankets swarmed around her and Stiles like a cocoon of warmth, the sheets covering everything except their heads.

Stiles was still sleeping, his eyelids flickering a little before closing once more. He groaned slightly and he shuffled closer to Allison. She reached out minutely and her hand met with his hair. She stroked the messy tufts, her fingers entangling in it.

She liked seeing Stiles like this; pliant and relaxed and free of burden. He looked so beautiful and in these moments Allison felt selfish. She wanted to keep him here with her and Scott forever, a never-ending pocket of paradise that exclusively belonged to them.

But Stiles belonged to himself first and foremost, and Scott had to constantly reassure Stiles of that fact. Peter Hale nearly ruined everything when he hurt Stiles the summer before. He _hurt_ Stiles and all of Allison's sisterly love and rage wanted to tear that monster asunder and feed his body with the arrows that she often practiced with.

Stiles' eyes fluttered open, looking confused for a moment before seeing Allison. She smiled gently at him. "Time to get up," she told him before kissing him on the mouth. She pulled back and Stiles nodded slowly, his eyes flickering to her lips before surging up to meet them.

"Thank you," he breathed out, and Allison felt his hand pressing up against her hip. She touched his wrist, gently pushing him away.

"You're welcome," she said back and genuinely meant it. She nodded toward the door. "I'm going to go find Scott," she said. Stiles nodded, frowning in confusion. Allison gave him another kiss before throwing the covers off of her and bounced out of bed.

Scott was in the kitchen already frying up some bacon. He turned and grinned at her as she walked up to him, kissing him deeply. His hands found her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Good morning," Allison said. She gave him another kiss before asking, "You weren't lonely last night, were you?"

"Nah," Scott said, smiling. "I thought I'd give you two some alone time and have our bed all to myself for once."

Allison gave him a light smack on the arm. "Don't get used to it," she said with a mischievous smile on her lips. She looked over at the frying pan. "That smells good. Are you making anything else?"

"I was thinking crepes," Scott said.

Scott and Allison were halfway through eating breakfast when Stiles finally roused himself out of bed and joined them at the kitchen table. He looked drowsy, which was what the definition of 'well-rested' for him nowadays. Sometimes he looked better when he spent the night over at Erica's, which Allison was both relieved and felt a pang of envy about.

She knew that the circumstances of their relationship had changed from lovers to something more, due to a mixture of Peter nearly murdering the two of them and the bartender Vernon and Erica's pregnancy with Kyle. It was a cruel way of learning that their love for one another was genuine and pure, all through loss and pain.

Allison watched Stiles as he grabbed a bowl and cereal from the cupboards and joined them at the breakfast table. "So what's on the agenda today?" he asked casually. Stiles had been adamant about helping Scott and Allison prepare for the wedding, even with the more tedious tasks such as choosing out the floral arrangements and the colors for the tablecloths. Stiles was a much bigger help than Allison's mother had been lately, who was more of a hinder to the wedding plans. Victoria Argent was a woman who believed in a number of things that conflicted with what Allison envisioned and that tended to cause many disagreements between them. It hadn't always been like this, but in light of the events of last summer certain topics made their conversations _strained._

"I have to mail out the invitations today, that's all," Allison replied, giving Scott's hand a squeeze. Scott had flatly told them that Agent McCall wouldn't be invited ("It'd just be one more disappointment when he doesn't show up," he had told Allison) and the same went for Allison's extended family members. Just knowing that Gerard had a hand in the Hale fire was enough to make her refuse his attendance.

Her Aunt Kate, on the other hand, wouldn't be held back by a lack of invitation, so Allison had reluctantly made one up for her. Allison had a reckless, daring hope that she could get information out of her aunt if she came for the wedding but hadn't told the boys about her plan. It was just a fleeting hope that Kate would be that generous, after all.

"We could've cut back on the time and expenses if we'd just made a Facebook page about it," Stiles said half-jokingly, bringing Allison back into the conversation.

"Mrs. Argent would have a fit over that," replied Scott.

"Only because she wouldn't be able to locate it without a team of hackers," Stiles said, smiling a bit more openly now. "While she's distracted with that you two can go run off to Vegas and get hitched there!"

"Tempting," said Allison, pursing her lips in an amused sort of way. Stiles would totally do that if she and Scott allowed him. Since the last argument with her parents Allison had been considering the idea more and more.

But she and Scott wanted their dream wedding, and unhelpful family members weren't going to stop that.

Allison hesitated with the bundle of invitations at the post office section of the grocery store. The one that she'd made for Lydia was at the top.

She had put off asking Stiles and Erica if it was okay for her to invite Lydia, time and time again. It wouldn't be such a weighty decision if it weren't for the fact that Lydia had Kyle and they didn't. What did Allison want out of this scenario, a chance to see her niece? Wouldn't that just cause Erica and Stiles more pain?

There was only one person in front of her before Allison reached the post office's counter. She had to make a quick decision.

No, it wasn't any of her business. She couldn't invite Lydia; she barely knew the woman. It might've been alright if she didn't have Kyle. But if she didn't, Erica and Stiles would never have met her in the first place.

"I can help the next person in line."

Allison quickly stuffed Lydia's invitation into her pocket and handed the other ones over to the cashier. She paid for the stamps and promptly left, fully aware of the final envelope creasing in her pocket.

It was when she was turning around that she saw them.

Allison couldn't mistaken the strawberry blonde hair of the woman just ahead of her. Her back was facing her, but it was the stroller that she was pushing that convinced Allison that it was Lydia.

The urge to see Kyle was what prompted Allison to grab a random box of granola bars off of the shelf as she walked by. Lydia was steering the stroller toward the check-out, her items being held in the grocery basket that she was grasping in her left hand.

The cashier smiled and cooed at the baby as Lydia handed her the basket. "Awww, she's so cute!" she praised. "How old is she?"

"Two and a half months," Lydia replied happily. Her back was still turned to Allison, but her voice definitely identified her as the older woman.

"Are you being a good girl for your mommy?" the cashier asked Kyle in that soft, silly tone that adults often used for small children.

"She's a very good baby," Lydia said, and Allison's heart squeezed at the utter love and adoration that was held within those words. She slowly put down the box of granola bars and walked past the other people in line, passing by Lydia as she paid for her things. She stole a glance at the stroller, which turned out to be a mistake.

Kyle's hair had started to grow out into little blonde curls that were painfully identical to Erica's and her amber eyes were bright and curious like her daddy's. Lydia had her dressed her up in a cute little dress with a cat etched on the front and matching striped socks. Kyle looked up at Allison and she could've swore that there was recognition in her little baby face because Kyle lifted up a hand, reaching towards her. Allison held in a breath and quickly turned away, walking towards the exit on shaky legs. She could've sworn that she saw Lydia look in her direction for a split second.

Tears streamed down her face as she got closer to her car. She struggled to unlock the doors and once she slid into the driver's seat the tears had turned into full-blown sobs.

Seeing the baby that Erica and Stiles had conceived out of love had torn out her heart. Allison had wondered many times if everything would be different if Peter Hale had never come into their lives. Would Erica and Stiles have kept Kyle instead of putting her up for adoption? Allison believed deep in her heart that the two of them had subconsciously done it to keep their daughter safe. Lydia Martin had the resources and heavy influence to provide protection for Kyle in ways that their family never could. She was a stranger to Peter, so hopefully that would keep him away from her and the baby.

But of course Allison Argent was greedy beneath all of her selfless love and protective nature for her family: she _wanted_ Kyle to be in their lives. She wanted Stiles and Erica to become the awesome parents that they were obviously meant to be. She wanted her and Scott to be the cool aunt and uncle that brought Kyle to the movies and let her stay up late and secretly give her first beer when she was a rowdy teenager.

They could never have that because of Peter Hale and she wanted to kill him for it.

A soft tapping came at her window which startled her out of her thoughts. She looked through it and saw Lydia on the other side, a look of deep concern on her face. Allison wiped her hand across her face before rolling down the window.

"Hey," she said, her voice wobbling a little.

"Do you want to talk?" Lydia asked.

Allison nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great."


End file.
